


Strength

by pugoata



Category: RWBY
Genre: BIAKB, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Smut, also I am incapable of writing something that isn't soft, happy 6/9, this is absolutely just pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugoata/pseuds/pugoata
Summary: AU: A vacation was just the thing Blake needed to relax. The rustic lakehouse was a perfect place to spend the long summer days, and it was made even better by the company she was with. Her relationship with Yang was still a new one, and she couldn't ask for more in a girlfriend, especially after last relationship ended so badly. Yang was full of gentleness and love... but sometimes, Blake was in the mood for something more."Look, Yang... I'm not broken!" she finally said, full of alcohol and pent-up frustration. "Just... take control now and then! I want you to just ravage me once in a while!"
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 49
Kudos: 322





	Strength

The muscles in Yang’s back rippled and stretched with each stroke of the paddle, and Blake had to stop herself from staring. More than once, she’d been convinced that she was going to topple into the water, or steer them off course, for the sheer fact of being distracted by gleaming muscle and freckled skin.

The canoe trip had been Yang’s idea, and at first, Blake hadn’t been sure of the idea. It had been years since she’d last canoed as a summer camp counselor, and could only remember stressful canoe trips spent with whining children. How could Yang want to do this for _fun?_

But now, with a view like this, where she could stare at Yang’s shoulder blades all day… how could she complain?

“How’re you doing?” Yang asked, taking a quick glance behind herself. “You need a break? Or need to switch sides?”

“I’m good,” Blake replied, shaking her head. “I can last till we get back.”

“Okay,” Yang said, quirking an eyebrow. There was a light sheen of sweat on her face, making her almost glitter in the sunshine. “It’s not much farther, anyway.”

“Good. I’m getting hungry.”

Yang laughed, her smile devilish and easy. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna eat well tonight.”

Whether or not Yang meant the phrase as innuendo, that was the first direction Blake’s mind went in. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks as Yang turned back to the front. God, Yang didn’t even _need_ to make innuendo. Just being in her presence was a constant turn-on.

Their relationship was still so new, so full of possibilities, that Blake found it hard to resist the pull of Yang’s allure. After being stuck in a less-than-pleasant relationship for two years, it was so refreshing to be with someone who actually considered her own needs and desires. 

Still… it felt like something was missing. At times, Yang seemed _too_ gentle with her, _too_ careful. And Blake, stoked by the damning fires of lust, wanted _more_.

 _Look, Yang… I’m not_ broken _,_ she’d finally told Yang the night before, full of alcohol and pent-up frustration. _You don’t need to be so_ careful _all the time_.

_What do you mean?_

_You don’t need to be so…_ gentle _with me. Every time._ Blake’s cheeks had heated when she said this, when she saw the way Yang raised her eyebrows. _I mean, I appreciate that you’ve been careful, especially after… everything that happened with Adam. But… I trust you. So just... take control, now and then!_ She paused, and then, before she could stop herself, she’d blurted, _Damn it, Yang. I want you to just… ravage me once in a while!_

Yang’s brows had been so high on her forehead, and they stayed that way as she seemed to think over Blake’s words. She nodded, a hint of a smirk on her lips. She’d understood, and-- Blake’s heart still fluttered as she remembered the expression on Yang’s face-- she’d seemed to like the idea.

 _Baby_ , Yang had murmured, leaning in close enough for Blake to feel the breath on her lips, _I love it when you’re feisty._

\--

It was about a half hour later when they reached the lakehouse, hopping out of the canoe where the water came up to their knees. Blake’s arms were sore from rowing, but it was a _good_ kind of ache, the kind that meant long-dormant muscles were finally waking up. She stowed her wooden paddle under the bench seats and stretched, grunting a little at the tension in her shoulders.

Yang, however, didn’t stop. She dragged the canoe through the water and up to the shore, where it scraped on the sandy bottom. She stopped with the canoe’s stern still in the water, but at least this way, it wouldn’t drift away.

“How’re your arms?” Yang asked with a grin, turning back to Blake. Again, Blake tried not to stare at the way Yang rolled her shoulders; they were slightly pink from the sun, dotted with freckles. “Sore?”

“A little bit,” Blake admitted, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m pretty out of shape.”

“You did well, though,” Yang replied cheerfully. “You’re a good sternswoman.”

Blake snorted. Yang had been surprised when Blake had claimed the rear of the canoe. Doing so meant that she was the one to steer, guided by Yang’s occasional direction and pointed finger. She’d enjoyed the responsibility, using knowledge she thought she’d never use again. Plus, it had meant that she’d been able to sit behind Yang all day, to have a legitimate reason to stare at her broad muscles. For much of the day, Yang had only worn a sports bra, which left Blake plenty of skin to admire.

“You know,” Blake added daringly, feeling emboldened by the day’s view, “I was thinking, that maybe next time, I’ll let _you_ steer. You seem to know your way around a paddle. And I’d love a… _demonstration_.”

And god, it was worth it just to watch the splotches of color stain Yang’s cheeks; with Blake’s tone, there was no mistaking what she meant. Then, Yang smirked. “You want to see what I can do with a paddle, huh?”

Blake gave Yang her most winning smile. “I’d _love_ to.”

Yang pulled her paddle out from the canoe, weighing it in her hands. She seemed to consider, a smile never leaving her face.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied in a low voice. Blake shivered.

Yang’s words were all she could think about as they worked together to bring the canoe back up the shore. They unloaded their lunch things and sweatshirts, then lifted it onto the rack. Canoes were heavy, but when they worked together, it was easy work to stow it.

As they walked back up to the house, Blake looked back over her shoulder at the small boats. The paddles gleamed where they’d been set, and all Blake could think about was what else a paddle could be used for.

Maybe there really _was_ something to canoe trips.

“Ready for dinner?” Yang asked, setting their things down. Blake strode toward the couch, flopping face-first onto it dramatically.

“Mhm.”

Yang laughed. “Tired?”

“Maybe.”

“Then take a nap while I make dinner,” Yang said cheerfully. Blake could hear her rummaging through the cupboards. “It shouldn’t be long.”

“God, how did I get a girlfriend that can _cook_?” Blake asked dreamily into the couch cushion. Yang laughed again, and there was a sound of metal-on-metal as she set a skillet on the stove.

“Maybe you did something right in a past life,” she teased. Blake rolled over onto her back, looking up at the knots in the wooden ceiling.

“Well, either way,” Blake said, smiling sleepily. “I’m glad to have you in this one.”

She heard Yang chuckle, and pause in whatever she was doing. Then, the soft footfalls as Yang came over to her, poking her head over the top of the couch to smile softly down at Blake, eclipsing Blake’s view of the ceiling. Yang reached a hand down, running it through her hair. Blake closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of fingers on her scalp.

“You’re gonna need a shower,” Yang remarked with a frown as she tried combing through it with her fingers. “Your hair is so knotted.”

“It was pretty breezy out there,” Blake agreed, wincing a little as Yang tried to gently work through some knots. “But you’re probably right. I feel a bit gross, anyway, from being outside all day.”

“Mmm.” Yang leaned further over the couch, capturing Blake’s lips in a kiss. Blake smiled into it; while she _felt_ gross, she certainly didn’t mind Yang’s lingering scent of sunscreen and sweat. It was almost primal, sending a flare of heat down Blake’s stomach.

“If you want,” Blake murmured, licking her lips. “You can join me.”

“I thought you wanted a nap? And dinner?” Yang asked, amused.

“They can wait.”

Yang tilted her head, like she was pretending to think about it. “I dunno…” she replied slowly. “I know _I’m_ hungry. Famished, even.”

“I know what you’re trying to get me to say,” Blake said with an eye roll. “But I am _not_ falling into that trap.”

“Do you want me to show you instead, then?” Yang’s smirk was a challenge. Blake tried to hold back her smile, and feigned an indifferent shrug.

“All _I_ was planning to do was shower,” she replied innocently. “Though if you’d rather stay out here and cook dinner… then by all means, cook away.”

Blake rose, letting Yang’s hand slide down her shoulder and arm as she pulled away. Yang’s fingers remained on her skin until the last possible moment, when Blake was too far for even Yang’s long arms to reach.

Carefully not looking back to see if Yang was following her, Blake strode toward the bathroom, wondering if Yang was just as painfully aware of the sway in her hips as she was.

Of course, she never doubted for an instant that Yang would follow her. She heard the footsteps behind her, but Blake had learned enough from Greek tragedies: she could resist the urge to turn around and break the tension prematurely. She could wait a few extra seconds, she told herself, feeling the burning of her own thoughts. It would be all the better, if she waited.

She still didn’t turn as she pulled a towel out of the closet, hanging it on the hook near the shower. She reached into the shower and turned it on. The initial blast of spray was cold, but it warmed quickly; for such a rural cabin, the bathroom amenities were modern, and more importantly, spacious.

Very much aware of Yang’s eyes on her, Blake gripped the hem of her shirt, toying with it for a moment before beginning to lift it. But then, behind her, Yang placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Stop,” Yang murmured. Blake released her shirt, and felt the warmth of Yang’s presence press against her back. “Let me.”

Blake stood very still as Yang’s hands trailed across her stomach. It was such a soft touch, hardly grazing more than Blake’s shirt, just as soft as Yang had always given her. It wasn’t the _ravaging_ she’d demanded a few days ago, but Blake would never complain about any of this softness. She tilted her head back, feeling Yang press a kiss against her tangled hair.

“You should really brush your hair before you get into the shower,” Yang said quietly, her voice hitching slightly with amusement.

“Yeah,” Blake said, her mouth dry. “Maybe I should.”

Yang’s fingers tightened around Blake’s hem, and in a slow, fluid motion, she pulled the shirt off, Blake only lifting her arms to help. The minute the shirt hit the floor, Yang had set both of her hands on Blake’s sides, smoothing them up and down, and Blake closed her eyes in enjoyment. She felt a kiss on her shoulder, and then another.

Just as Blake began to sag against her, Yang stepped away. Blake gave a little whine of indignation, but then Yang was back.

“Hair first,” she said firmly.

Though it was frustrating, to be tempted with touch only to have it taken away so quickly, Yang had a point. She reached back for the brush, but Yang had already started combing it through Blake’s hair.

Out of everyone she knew, Yang was probably the most qualified to touch her hair. Yang took such good care of her own, and her touch was always so gentle even on the worst knots. She combed carefully around Blake’s cat ears, and Blake found herself sinking more and more against Yang’s form with relaxation.

The unlatching of her bra made Blake jolt back up. She looked back over her shoulder to watch Yang set the brush aside, and goosebumps prickled on her skin at the way Yang was smirking.

Blake opened her mouth to speak, but had no words to say. It only made Yang’s smirk widen.

“What?” Yang asked innocently, stroking a hand down Blake’s neck. Blake sucked in an inhale, then shook her head. One strap slipped down her shoulder.

“N-nothing,” she said hastily, turning back to the shower. Steam was beginning to fog the glass.

Yang’s fingers continued on down her shoulder, pushing the other bra strap down. She kissed her shoulder, as if her lips were chasing the strap away. She snaked her other hand around Blake’s front, cupping a breast in her hand and circling her nipple with her thumb as the bra fell away. Blake swallowed.

She was aware of the heaviness of her breathing, and the heaviness of steam in the air, as Yang tugged Blake’s waistband low over her hips. How was it, she thought dimly, that Yang always had such an immediate effect on her?

She stepped out of her shorts and turned, staring wildly up into Yang’s darkening eyes. Yang met the stare head-on, an almost tangible hunger in that gaze.

And then, their lips were on each other, desperate and hot, Yang wrapping her arms around Blake’s waist. Even Yang’s prosthetic seemed warm, the caress of that hand just as soft as any flesh. It slid down, curving over her ass, pressing Blake’s hips even closer into Yang’s.

“Get in,” Yang instructed, her voice slightly hoarse when they broke off the kiss. “Before we run out of hot water.”

“Why, so I can get clean before you dirty me up again?” Blake challenged. Yang’s eyes glittered.

“Something like that.” She nodded toward the shower. “I’ll join you.”

And that was an opportunity Blake could never resist. Still, she hated pulling away from Yang’s body, even though she knew it would be worth it. She felt the water with her hand, frowning when it was too hot. She adjusted the temperature, eyes always flickering back and forth between the nozzle and Yang, who was taking her time in undressing.

“Enjoying the show?” Yang asked cheerfully, pulling her sports bra over her head. Blake stared for perhaps a moment too long, and she wrenched her eyes away.

“Well, when you put one on, how am I supposed to _not_ look?”

The smug satisfaction in Yang’s smile was both insufferable and hot at the same time, and Blake was determined not to look again until Yang was in the shower with her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped in, already feeling wetness between her legs that had nothing to do with the shower.

She closed her eyes, dampening her hair and running her fingers through it. Yang’s brushing had taken care of the knots, and the water was returning sleekness to it. She tilted her head back, feeling her wet hair stick to her spine as the water sprayed her face.

With her eyes closed, she heard Yang’s feet slap against the shower floor as she stepped in, and closed the door behind her. Blake opened her eyes, automatically flickering up and down Yang’s body as she moved to give her access to the showerhead.

While the shower was spacious enough for two people, it was still close quarters, and their bodies rubbed against each other as Yang moved around her. Blake set a hand on Yang’s waist, already eager to feel her wet skin. But not even this was enough; she slid both of her arms around Yang’s body, pulling herself close and pressing herself into Yang’s back. Both of them were slightly slimy from the day’s sunscreen, but Blake didn’t care. Not even sunscreen could detract from the wonderful sensation of skin against skin, body against body.

“We’re supposed to be showering,” Yang pointed out, though she didn’t try to pull herself away. Blake knew damn well that she was enjoying herself just as much as she was.

“We are,” Blake replied reasonably. “We’re in the shower, aren’t we?”

“Mmm.” Yang placed a hand over Blake’s, brushing her thumb across it. “Which means we should technically be washing up.”

“Need some help with that?”

“I think...” Yang replied, looking back with a bright smile, “I do.”

Yang’s body wash was a comforting smell, and Blake had come to associate that citrus scent with being in Yang’s arms, and being held as she was still coming to terms with the decision of leaving her old life behind her. It was a sweet smell, one that reminded her of gentleness and love.

It was probably the best smell in the world.

She lathered Yang’s body with it, covering every inch of Yang’s skin with white suds. Blake was slow in her scrubbing, spending extra seconds on her breasts, her abs, her back. She rubbed the loofah in patient circles down Yang’s ass, and then sliding her hand along her smooth, soapy skin. As she worked, she counted goosebumps all over Yang’s body; as cool as Yang tried to act, she wasn’t unaffected by Blake’s touch.

Yet somehow, for all the skin, it was shampooing Yang’s hair that felt more intimate. In all the time she’d known Yang, she’d been protective of her long blonde hair. She’d seen once, the way Yang had smacked the hand away from a man who’d been forward enough to try to stroke it. Now, as she massaged first shampoo, and then conditioner into Yang’s hair with her fingertips, it felt like her hands were full of gold. Blake was touched; Yang trusted _her_ with her hair, and that trust filled Blake’s heart with adoration.

Yang rinsed out the last of the conditioner, Blake staring openly as she stretched her arms out to run through her wet hair one last time. Yang’s eyelids fluttered open, taking in Blake’s stare. She smiled.

“Your turn,” she said, shaking her hair out as she stepped away. They swapped places, Yang’s now-clean skin so slippery against Blake’s.

God, and Yang was so attentive. She kept close to Blake as she washed her hair, working her fingers through her long black tresses, her presence somehow even warmer than the shower water. Her hand smoothed soap over Blake’s stomach, dragging it upwards, sliding over her breasts, pausing long enough to catch one of her nipples between her fingers. She rolled it, and Blake had never been so aware of the rise and fall of her chest.

“I thought… you were supposed to be washing me,” Blake said weakly. Yang let out a low chuckle.

“I am,” Yang replied, releasing her nipple and continuing to scrub the loofah along her skin. Blake let out a frustrated groan, and Yang laughed out loud. 

Yang paused again when she came to the crux of Blake’s legs. Slowly-- _too_ slowly-- Yang began to work the loofah between Blake’s thighs. Automatically, Blake began to spread her legs, a silent plea for what she _really_ wanted Yang to touch.

“Do you want something from me?” Yang asked sweetly. Switching the loofah to the other hand, she moved her free hand between Blake’s legs. “You’re acting like you do.”

“You know what I want,” Blake growled, trying to angle her hips to press against Yang’s hand. It was only the slightest pressure, but it made all of Blake’s senses flare.

“You _wanted_ me to soap you up,” Yang corrected, clearly enjoying herself. “Aren’t I giving you what you wanted?”

And with that, she withdrew her hand, and Blake let out a desperate groan as Yang merely continued to wash her, scrubbing down her legs, only leaving the barest touches against her skin as if she hadn’t felt Blake’s wetness at all.

The denial raged down Blake’s body. Yang was usually so good at following up with her teasing. Why, now, was she leaving Blake to quiver? On any other occasion, she could have counted on Yang giving in, of getting onto her knees and giving Blake exactly what she craved, what she _needed_.

The lack of it made her throb.

When Yang hung the loofah back up on its hook, Blake wasted no time. She stepped closer, pulling Yang’s body close. Yang’s breasts were so soft against her own, her nipples stiff. She kissed Yang hard, with passion and hunger, like she was trying to give Yang the exact desperation she was feeling.

As predicted, Yang couldn’t seem to stop herself from kissing back just as hard. She licked the inside of Blake’s mouth, and Blake twined a leg around Yang’s, pulling her closer. All around them, the water continued to spray.

“Step back,” Yang ordered, and all Blake could do was obey. She fell back against the glass, just out of reach of the water, and Yang grabbed her wrists. She pinned them over Blake’s head, her grip strong, eyes gleaming. “What was that you said yesterday, baby?” she murmured. “About taking control?”

Blake sucked in a gasp. She gave a short, hard nod. She could barely speak, but she did manage a breathy, “ _Yes_.”

Yang slid a leg between Blake’s, rocking it slightly, and Blake almost sobbed as she strained against Yang’s grasp. Her first instinct would have been to grab Yang, to kiss her, to pull her closer, but all she could do was writhe.

For a moment, Yang said nothing, simply watching the agonized expressions that fell over Blake’s face as she tried to grind against Yang’s leg. She looked so _smug_ , watching the way Blake was falling to pieces around her. The steam from the shower looked as though it were coming from Yang herself, perhaps caused by the burning red of her irises.

It was overwhelming, and powerful, and _hot_.

Yang lowered her leg back down, still not releasing her hold around Blake’s wrists. The lack of pressure made Blake struggle even more; this was even worse than when Yang was washing her and hadn’t given into touch. 

_This_ was desperation.

“ _Yang_ ,” Blake pleaded. “For fuck’s sake--”

“You’re so wet already,” Yang said conversationally, tilting her head. “Maybe we should just dry off.”

“Fuck _you_.” Blake’s chest heaved. “Just _touch_ me already.”

Yang blinked, like she was surprised. She made a show of looking Blake over, at her pinned wrists, at her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. She smiled, and there was danger in the curve of her lips.

“I don’t think I will,” Yang replied, leaning in and brushing her lips against Blake’s for only a moment. Her lips trailed along Blake’s jaw, pausing at her earlobe and nipped at it. “You’re beautiful enough just like this.”

Blake whimpered, vainly trying to gyrate her hips against Yang’s, just out of reach. Yang’s kisses continued on down her neck.

“And this,” Yang breathed. She sucked Blake’s skin between her teeth; it would leave a mark, but Blake was too crazed to care. “And this.”

Yang bit at her collarbone, and Blake shook, all of her thoughts blazing for more, of that increasing wave of _want_ , consuming her mind in a flash fire. She was so wet she could feel it each time she shifted her legs, each time she wriggled toward Yang. A droplet of water slid down one breast, coming to a stop on a nipple. It didn’t escape Yang’s notice, and she moved her lips to suck it, swirling her tongue around to catch the droplet. It was almost too much to look at, a hint of the possibilities Yang could bring her that night.

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered as Yang continued to litter her chest with small red marks. “Please, please, _please_.”

Yang’s grip on her wrists slackened as she descended, but Blake never considered pulling them away. As infuriating as it was to be fully at Yang’s mercy, it was building her up in ways she’d only imagined. She’d always loved Yang’s gentleness, of course-- it had been something she’d needed after everything she’d been through-- but this was passion. A safe, beautiful passion that she’d been craving.

And by god, she was getting it.

By the time Yang finally dropped to her knees, she’d let go of Blake’s wrists altogether. Instead, she held Blake’s hands, twining their fingers together as Blake hooked a leg over her shoulder.

“Fuck,” Yang murmured, a small shred of her composure dropping as her mouth hovered over Blake’s cunt. She looked up into her eyes for a moment, and in that moment, Blake saw the softness there; even with all the teasing, that softness had never truly left. Blake’s knee shook, and she squeezed Yang’s hands hard.

“Yang,” she said softly, the sound coming out a whimper. Yang smiled, and drew her tongue upwards in a long lick.

Blake gasped, then sank into a moan as she felt Yang’s tongue press against her. Her hips rolled in a steady rhythm against it, and she stared down at Yang’s head as if hypnotized. After the teasing, it felt too good; her body seemed to move on its own accord, and Blake surrendered to the sensations.

Her own moans filled the air and her head rolled back. Her body didn’t even feel like her own anymore; Blake was only an instrument, with every action and reaction, every sound and twitch, carefully orchestrated by Yang. Yang’s tongue was so soft as it skirted around her slit, as if she were trying to lap up every bit of wetness Blake had to offer.

Blake’s hands twitched, instinctively trying to reach for Yang’s hair, but Yang held her hands firm.

“Hold still,” she told Blake playfully, and Blake _felt_ those words against her over-strung nerves, making her gasp in an inhale. Yang shook her hair out, falling damply down her back, and licked her lips before pressing her mouth to Blake once more.

Her tongue swirled around her clit, then sucked. Blake felt almost dizzy, her mouth opening soundlessly when Yang’s tongue gave her a gentle flick. She forced her eyes to stay open, entranced by the bobbing of Yang’s head.

It was only when Yang looked back up, and the sight of that little _smirk_ , that finally tipped Blake over the edge. She gasped, an odd jumble of syllables spilling out of her mouth that might’ve been some combination of “God, Yang, _fuck_.” Her hips bucked and her leg spasmed, so much so that Yang had to release one of Blake’s hands to hold her leg in place.

Yang’s left hand, her flesh-and-blood one, however, never let go of Blake. Her thumb caressed Blake’s hand, and it was this steadiness Blake clung to as she came down, squeezing hard enough that it had to have hurt, but Yang never flinched.

Blake could say nothing as Yang rose and leaned in for a deep, intentioned kiss, and Blake could taste herself all over Yang’s mouth. She groaned blissfully.

“ _God_ ,” she mumbled, taking a deep breath to try to normalize her breathing. “That was… so good.”

“Good,” Yang said quietly, her lips twitching in a smile. She gave a nod toward the shower. “You wanna rinse off before I turn the shower off?”

“Mmm.” It was so hard to extricate herself from Yang’s frame; her knees felt weak, and her whole body continued to thrum, but rinsing off and smoothing her hair out was probably a good idea. She stepped back under the water; it was already starting to turn lukewarm.

While Blake stood under the water, aimlessly running her fingers through her hair, Yang opened the door and grabbed a towel. Blake watched, as if in a daze, as she watched Yang dry herself and put her hair up in another towel.

How could one woman be so beautiful? she thought stupidly, blindly shutting off the water; she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Yang, like there was nothing else in the universe worth looking at.

Yang caught her staring, and grinned as she wrapped the towel around her chest. “What?” she teased. She grabbed Blake’s towel and handed it to her as Blake stumbled out of the shower.

“Nothing,” Blake replied, the word coming out in a breathless sigh as she held onto the shower door, not even reaching for the towel. Yang’s eyes softened and she pulled Blake against her body. Even out of the shower, her skin was still warm, and Blake nuzzled into her neck while Yang draped the towel over her shoulders.

Yang hummed, stroking Blake’s back over the towel. She kissed the top of Blake’s head, and for a moment, the world took on a softer hue while Blake simply let herself be held. In Yang’s arms, there was no safer place. Even after the height of physical sensation she’d brought Blake to, Yang was always so gentle with her.

“Get yourself dried off, baby,” she instructed softly. Blake looked up, feeling slightly more alert, ears perking back up. “But don’t get dressed yet.”

“Hmm?” Blake smiled as Yang kissed her again, still tasting traces of herself, but more than that, she tasted Yang’s smile.

“You don’t think I’m done with you already?” Yang asked, the question almost a dare.

Blake’s heartbeat had only just returned to its baseline, but Yang’s question made it quicken again. “What?”

“Remember?” Yang asked patiently, brushing damp hair away from Blake’s face. “You wanted me to... “ She brought up one hand up in air quotes. “ _Ravage you_.”

“Oh…” Heat bloomed in Blake’s cheeks. She'd been drunk. Had she really said that? Maybe she’d read too many _Ninjas of Love_ books. “I mean--”

Yang let out a sweet peal of laughter. “I’m just saying!” Her eyes twinkled. “I fully intend on following through.”

Blake stared at her, already aware of the way her body throbbed against her skin and the hotness of her blood. Her _want_ was very much still there, or maybe it had never left at all.

Either way, she was ready.

She nodded, maybe a little too quickly, but it didn’t matter when Yang was kissing her again, her metal fingers feeling cool against Blake’s cheeks.

“Dry off,” Yang repeated, meeting Blake’s eyes and holding her gaze levelly. “But don’t get dressed. Go to the bedroom and--” She paused, her pupils expanding with a thought. “And bend over. On the bed. And wait for me.”

“Oh,” Blake replied, her mouth going dry. “I-- yeah. Okay.”

Of course, it was hard to dry herself off when Yang kept kissing her. Blake couldn’t seem to tear herself away from Yang’s lips, or the tongue that kept promising things Blake was all too eager for. Still, she dried off as quickly as she could, eager to follow Yang’s orders. 

And Yang looked so _innocent_. She wasn’t acting at all like anything was out of the ordinary, or that she had anything sinful planned for them. She took her time in patting her skin dry, only looking up to give Blake the occasional, sly smile.

Meanwhile, Blake felt the desperation setting in once more as her imagination ran wild. What did Yang have planned? The wetness between her legs was already growing; was Yang just as wet, just as excited? How could she act so nonchalant?

“I’ll meet you in there,” Blake said hurriedly, setting her hairbrush down.

“Okay,” Yang said as she faced the mirror, pulling the towel off of her head. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders in damp clumps. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Blake stood, watching, as Yang ran a hand through her hair. Was Yang going to make her wait as she took care of her hair? She wouldn’t be so cruel, would she?

Then, the reflection of her lilac eyes flickered over to Blake’s golden ones. She raised an eyebrow.

“I said I’ll be there in a minute,” Yang said sternly. The corner of her mouth curled. “And I hope I find you waiting for me, just like I asked.”

“Y-yes.” Blake waited for another second, expecting a kiss, but Yang made no move away from the mirror. Biting her lip, Blake finally gave up, leaving Yang in the bathroom by herself.

The bedroom of the lakehouse was fairly small, with the bed taking up most of the space. There was an old-fashioned quilt atop it, giving the room a rustic feel. Dusk sunbeams filtered in through the curtains, casting a comfortable glow on the room. A long mirror hung on the wall above the dresser, and as Blake pulled off her towel, she kept darting looks at her reflection.

She couldn’t say if the mirror placement was intentional, but as Blake bent over the end of the bed, all she could think about was how perfect this angle was. If she kept her head turned to the right, she’d be able to watch every single thing Yang did to her.

She balled up the quilt in her fist, trying not to think of the steady pulse in her cunt.

As she waited, Blake propped herself up on her elbows, staring at her reflection. She was so exposed, her body curving over the edge of the bed, her long black hair still slightly damp where it hung over her shoulders. When Yang saw her like this, would it turn her on, too?

Then, there was a roaring sound, and Blake nearly jumped before she realized it was a hairdryer. She groaned, sinking against the mattress, her face flopping against the quilt.

Of course Yang would keep her waiting.

It was a little cold after her shower, and she fidgeted, legs spreading slightly. The movement made her acutely aware of her wetness. The anticipation was only building on her desire and need, making her twitchy. But that damned hairdryer was still running; did Yang even know what effect she was having on Blake?

It felt like an eternity before the hair dryer stopped blowing. Blake propped herself back up, then looked back at the mirror. Then, she craned her head to look back toward the door, trying to listen for any sound of change.

Blake was about to slump back down when her sensitive hearing caught the padding of approaching feet. She took a fresh hold of the quilt beneath her and took a deep breath.

The footfalls stopped, and Blake chanced a glance into the mirror. Yang stood in the doorway, a purple towel still wrapped around her body, her eyes roaming over Blake’s form. Her cheeks were visibly red, her eyes dark.

“Fuck,” she murmured appreciatively. She strode forward, and Blake’s whole body tensed. Yang set a hand on her back, between her shoulderblades. Then, she slid her hand down Blake’s spine, moving taking an almost unbearable amount of time before she stopped it on the small of Blake’s back.

Blake drew in a sharp inhale.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Yang said quietly. She gathered Blake’s hair in her hands, smoothing it out gently, then moved it over Blake’s shoulder and out of the way. There was a dull _flump_ of Yang’s towel being dropped to the ground, and in the mirror, Yang’s bare skin looked like it was glowing in the fading light.

Blake closed her eyes when she felt lips press against the nape of her neck, and she automatically rolled her neck to give Yang more room to kiss. Yang leaned over, her breasts pressing into Blake’s back as she kissed her way to Blake’s earlobe.

“I thought about getting the canoe paddle,” she said in a low voice that sent goosebumps racing down Blake’s arms. “But it’s a little too unwieldy for what I want.”

“What… you want?” Blake asked weakly. She felt a smile in Yang’s next kiss.

“Or what _you_ want. Maybe I can’t use a paddle right now, but I know how to improvise.”

Blake shivered. She hadn’t forgotten her remark to Yang earlier that evening. She’d only been half-serious when she’d said it; she’d figured that a canoe paddle would be out of the question to use in bed. But Yang said she knew how to improvise…

“Yes,” Blake whispered.

“Mmm.” Yang nipped at Blake’s earlobe. Her breath was so hot. “Then I’ll show you.”

Kisses trailed across Blake’s neck and shoulders, and along her back. The more Yang moved along, the quicker the kisses came, rushed and brief, even though they remained feather-light. Yang’s prosthetic slid across her skin, dipping down onto Blake’s side and around to her front, curling around upwards and onto her breast. Yang kneaded her fingers into it, capturing a nipple between her fingers as her left hand climbed downward.

In the mirror, she saw Yang adjust her body, making room so Blake could see the way Yang massaged her breast and toyed with her nipple. Yang was watching Blake’s expression in the mirror, seeming pleased at the way Blake stared at their reflections.

Blake’s breathing was heavy when she felt the first strike of Yang’s hand against her ass. It was a light smack, a testing one. Blake gasped; even though there was little pain, the slap was loud.

“You okay?” Yang murmured, pressing her hand against the spot she’d smacked. “If it’s too much--”

“I’ll say the safeword,” Blake breathed. “But for now… again.”

Yang slapped again, harder, and Blake sucked in such a short breath it might have been a hiccup. Then again. And again. Each fresh slap was harder than the last, until it really _did_ hurt, and Blake was sure that it was leaving a fresh red mark on her ass.

But this was a good pain, the kind that sent the exultant chemicals in her brain racing with excitement because even with the pain, there was something absolutely intoxicating in the way Yang spanked her. She felt safe, in knowing Yang would never go too far, and that she would stop the minute Blake asked her to. It left her room to absorb the pain, to take it in and relish it.

With this safety, the pain felt like a rush.

“Yang-- I want-- to see--” Blake stammered, and Yang seemed to understand immediately. She set a soothing palm against the stinging skin she left behind, and moved herself to the other side of Blake. She looked into the mirror, meeting Blake’s eyes as she raised her other hand, bringing it across the other side of her ass with a hard _slap_.

Blake cried out, white-knuckling the quilt in her fists, constantly aware of the intense slickness between her legs. Watching Yang’s reflection, and being able to anticipate each smack, was an indescribable feeling that made her heart pound and her blood roar. It hurt, but god, she couldn’t remember pain ever feeling so _good_.

When she couldn’t watch anymore, Blake collapsed onto her front, quivering as Yang ran a hand over her ass, soothing the inflamed skin.

“You all right?” Yang asked, a trace of worry in her voice. Still breathless, Blake turned her head and nodded frantically.

“Y-yeah,” she gasped. She pressed a hand to her face, which felt so hot. “God, that was-- _yeah_.”

She saw Yang’s smile in the mirror as she continued to smooth a palm over Blake’s ass. Yang’s hands were all softness and comfort now, but it wasn’t just comfort Blake needed.

Yang’s hand descended, and Blake groaned at the fingers lightly stroking her cunt. She rose her hips, trying to meet her fingers.

“You’re soaked,” Yang remarked, slipping two fingers inside her so easily. Blake’s back arched, her head tipping back. It was almost like a pose for yoga, or a sculpture. Her neck exposed, Yang pressed her lips against it.

“Fuck me,” Blake whispered, watching her reflection out of the corner of her eye. Being able to see the roll of her hips against Yang’s hand was enchanting, and Blake couldn’t stop staring.

Yang drew in a sharp breath, then nodded. She rose abruptly, only pulling her hand away at the last possible second. Immediately, Blake whined.

“If you can wait a minute,” Yang said darkly, stepping away, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Despite the heat of the moment, something about Yang’s phrasing sounded so much like a sales pitch that Blake had to laugh. She pressed her face into the quilt, grinning, while Yang turned toward the dresser.

“You already have,” Blake said, her voice muffled where she spoke into the bed. She turned her head back to her side, eyes widening as Yang pulled a harness out of the drawer. “Oh…”

Blake watched Yang’s reflection hungrily as she put it on. While she did, she absently reached a hand to her backside, wincing a little, but wanting to feel the heat for herself. She would be sore for a while yet, but she could withstand it, especially for what Yang had planned. She stared at the toy Yang clicked into place, her heart beginning to pound as Yang took her time in adjusting it.

It was all about the anticipation, she thought as Yang stepped behind her. And anticipation was a tool that Yang clearly knew how to use.

Yang seized her by the hips, using her strength as leverage to pull Blake closer with minimal effort. She pressed the length of the dildo to Blake’s slit, coating it with her excess wetness. Blake groaned, trying to cant against it as much as Yang allowed her. Her ass burned every time it bumped against Yang’s skin, but it felt like the burn deep in her core; fierce, and wanting.

“Yang, please,” Blake whimpered, feeling it slide back and forth, brushing her clit. “Just fuck me.”

“I don’t know…” She felt Yang lean over her and plant a kiss between her shoulderblades. “I kinda like the view I’ve got now. Seeing how wild you’re getting.”

Blake shot a glance at the mirror again, and saw Yang was looking at it, too. Yang was rocking her hips only a miniscule amount, just enough to tease, but seeing the motion for herself made Blake let out a hard, desperate moan.

“ _Please_ ,” she repeated. “I need this. I need _you_.”

She saw Yang’s smile, and felt a half-second’s relief when she realized Yang would finally give in. And then Yang was angling her hips up, guiding the tip inside of her, slowly filling her.

Blake’s gasps turned guttural the further it went in, digging her fingers into the fabric of the quilt, leaving it wrinkled and unmade.

Unmade, she thought as Yang’s hips met her sore ass. That was exactly what Blake would be when Yang was through with her.

Yang’s hips pumped slowly, getting Blake used to the size, the fullness, before she picked up speed, her fingers digging into Blake’s skin the harder she thrust. Blake rocked against it, moaning more as she was pulled along at Yang’s pace, full of that all-encompassing pressure. Each stroke left her shuddering as Yang thrust _just_ right, rendering Blake unable to do anything but moan.

She collapsed onto her forearms, lost to the dizzying, incredible climb that Yang was taking her through, staring at their reflections, watching as Yang fucked her, harder and harder--

Her whole body spasmed, and she cried out as she came hard and fast. Behind her, Yang didn’t stop immediately, rocking her hips a couple more times before pulling out, making Blake gasp once more. She felt Yang’s hair drift onto her back as she leaned over Blake, peppering soft kisses across her skin.

Panting, Blake rolled onto her side, flinching at the new pressure on her ass, but feeling too exhausted to find a more comfortable position. Yang leaned over her, pushing away the hair that had gotten into Blake’s face, then slid a hand beneath her, as if trying to cushion Blake’s raw skin.

“You…” was all Blake could manage to say between breaths, but it didn’t matter anyway. Yang kissed her, and Blake returned it sloppily, her tongue sliding messily against Yang’s. She felt Yang’s smile as she returned it with a little more precision.

For a few minutes, they only kissed, retreating for a moment to that gentleness that had become the foundation for both of them. The pace was a welcome break to Blake’s pounding heart; it had felt like she’d run a marathon. Only Yang could do this to her so well, Blake thought peacefully, closing her eyes. She could work Blake to the highest of highs, but never leave her adrift. Yang was always so constant, and no matter where Blake’s mind soared to, she could always find her balance with her.

But as she began to settle down again, she realized Yang hadn’t moved to take off the harness. She still felt the press of silicon against her skin, a tempting reminder of what Yang could do. Her eyes darted down to it, and when she looked back up, Yang’s eyes were waiting to meet her gaze.

No words were needed. Blake gave a slow nod, and Yang smiled. 

Carefully, she climbed over Blake, keeping their gazes locked as she angled the dildo against her entrance. Blake could see the flexing of her muscles as she hunched over Blake’s body, her abs defined as she pushed in. Blake let out a whimpering moan, her eyes never leaving Yang’s.

Yang fucked her more slowly, less frantically, than the first time, but this way felt _closer_. It was different, being able to look Yang in the eyes instead of staring at a reflection. Blake let out another soft sound, rolling her hips to meet Yang’s thrusts as they came harder, and faster.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Yang murmured between grunts of exertion. The kiss she gave Blake was more like a caress than a deep kiss.

“Yang,” Blake said weakly.

“I always love,” Yang went on, giving her another kiss that was so light in comparison to the way she was ramming against Blake, “being able to watch your face.”

Blake couldn’t speak. She let out a small, high-pitched sigh, her body trembling, reverberating. She looked down to the steady curling of Yang’s abs with each thrust, glimpsing the toy going in and out, too dumbstruck to do anything but watch the way Yang was fucking her.

She wrapped her arms around Yang, pulling her flush against her own body, relishing the sensation of smooth skin against her own, of muscle and the softness of her breasts. Yang shifted her head, keeping her head just far enough back, studying Blake’s expressions with rapt attention.

With the closeness, Yang began to thrust more, and Blake could see a sparkle of sweat on her temples from the effort. Blake’s mouth stretched open soundlessly, right on the edge, so _close_.

“That’s it,” Yang said breathlessly, pumping her hips, staring into Blake’s eyes. “Yeah. Cum for me.”

Blake’s body thundered, gasping out Yang’s name as she clenched hard around the dildo, her nails dragging down Yang’s back. It didn’t even seem like Yang noticed the scratching; she smiled delightedly, gazing into Blake’s face as if she was taking in every twitch of muscle, and drinking in every moan.

Blake, meanwhile, felt like she was floating out of her skin. She blinked slowly back up at Yang, seeing spots dancing across her vision.

“God,” she groaned, sucking in a gasp as Yang withdrew from her. Her arms dropped from where they’d wrapped around Yang, splaying out beside her head like she couldn’t move them another inch. She’d never felt so satisfied, or so fulfilled, from sex before. She could barely wrap her head around any thoughts beyond Yang, or beyond love, but found that she found that she didn’t _want_ to think about anything else, anyway. She had all she needed.

Yang straightened up, cracking her back as she finally unstrapped the harness. She wobbled a little as she set it and the toy on the dresser, and Blake held out one tired arm to her. Taking it, she flopped on the bed beside Blake, letting out a long, sleepy exhale.

Blake hummed as Yang rolled onto her side, feeling a pleasant buzz in the way Yang began to stroke her hair.

“I love you,” Blake said thickly, smiling as Yang pressed a kiss to her lips.

“And I love you,” she replied, sounding amused. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little bit dead,” Blake replied, her smile widening, “but the good kind.”

“A good kind of dead?” Yang laughed, stretching an arm around Blake and fitting her body around Blake’s smaller frame. Blake tipped her body toward Yang, flopping against her and burying her face in Yang’s neck.

“Mhm.” She traced a hand aimlessly down Yang’s side. Her skin was so warm, and a little bit sticky with sweat. “But give me a minute, and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”

“Will you?” Yang asked teasingly, pressing her forehead against Blake’s. “If you’re even capable of moving, then I clearly haven’t done my job well enough.”

“That was _more_ than well enough,” Blake replied, chuckling a little. “But I don’t need to move _that_ much. As long as I can move a couple things.”

To demonstrate, Blake’s hand rounded to Yang’s front, crossing lines of her abs as it descended. Yang pulled in deeper breaths, continuing to look in Blake’s eyes as her fingers traveled downward, over her mound and skirting around her clit. Just as she thought, Yang was dripping.

With a hint of a smirk, Blake let her wet fingers brush over Yang’s clit before she pulled her hand away, holding Yang’s eyes as she sucked those fingers into her mouth. She _heard_ the way Yang gulped, saw the flash of desire in her eyes. She fully intended to give Yang the same fulfillment she’d given Blake.

“Move up on the bed,” she told Yang, jutting her head toward the pillows. Yang did, then narrowed her eyes at the way Blake was already starting to slide her aching body down, between Yang’s legs.

“Wait.” Yang’s grin bared teeth. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“Better than this?” Blake asked, flopping onto her side as she waited for Yang to explain. Yang nodded.

“Get on top of me. Let’s do this at the same time.”

Blake’s eyes widened and she nodded. Even though her sore muscles protested the action, she got up, shakily climbing over Yang’s body. Her knees nearly buckled under her own weight and she fell onto all fours, trying to keep from resting her entire body weight on Yang. She adjusted so that her face hovered directly over Yang’s cunt, inhaling the musky scent.

Likewise, she felt Yang’s breath on her own, and Yang’s arms wrapping securely around her thighs. Blake let out a soft moan, before Yang even had a chance to start working her tongue.

And god, Yang was so wet, her wetness slick against Blake’s lips. Blake flicked her clit with her tongue, pleased at the soft groan she heard behind her. She did it again, this time sucking it into her mouth, feeling Yang trembling beneath her. At the same time, she felt Yang’s tongue swirling around her own clit, and Blake’s knees began to shake.

“I’m-- Blake, _fuck_ ,” Yang mumbled, a hitch in her voice. Blake dipped her tongue into Yang as deep as she could reach, licking messily, Yang quivering around her tongue. Yang’s hips began to buck, smearing cum on Blake’s face.

But it was getting harder and harder to focus, to keep her tongue moving in a steady rhythm, when Yang was doing the same to her. Blake tried to swallow back her moans as well as Yang’s wetness, but she was already so sensitive and high that it took little effort to bring her back to the brink.

“Yang--” she gasped, her nerves jolting. 

“That’s-- I’m--” Yang’s short nails dug into Blake’s thighs, and her whole body shuddered as she let out a deep, visceral moan. “ _Blake_.”

Yang was always so beautiful when she came, when her muscles tightened and her cunt throbbed and her whole body seized. Even though Blake couldn’t see her face, she could imagine it: the way her eyes squeezed shut, the furrowing of her eyebrows, her mouth opening as she gave herself over to her moans.

When she thought about Yang like that, she could understand Yang’s fascination with watching Blake’s own expressions during sex. It was so incredible, and powerful, to watch. She groaned, just thinking about it, looking back toward the mirror to watch as Yang settled back down.

Rather than falling limp, however, Yang seemed to use her orgasm to build momentum. Her tongue flicked Blake’s clit, and sucked it, and seconds later, Blake gasped in a stuttery inhale of supplication.

“ _Yang_!” she groaned, closing her eyes as she came. It was like all of her senses had been knocked out, leaving only a blissful sweetness in its wake. It was like she was drifting, only buoyed up by Yang’s body and the dizziness in her own head.

It took a moment for Blake to find her bearings again. She panted, and felt Yang’s own heavy breathing underneath her. At some point, she’d fully collapsed on top of Yang, but she was having difficulty trying to pull herself back up. She stuck a little bit to Yang’s body-- probably due to the sweat-- but managed to dislodge herself just far enough that she could topple off of her and back onto the bed.

She closed her eyes, feeling too exhausted to even bring her body back around to rest her head on the pillows.

“Blake?” Yang asked, her low voice full of amusement. Blake grunted. Yang let out a tired laugh. “Here. Let me help you.”

The mattress around her sank as Yang scooted closer. Warm, strong arms enveloped her, around her back and under her legs, lifting her slightly off the mattress and up the bed. Yang was so gentle, careful not to put too much pressure on any sore skin as she lay Blake more comfortably in the bed. With a sigh, Blake curled up, resting her head on the pillow.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, wriggling closer to Yang, enjoying the way Yang’s hand smoothed over her curves. “ _God_.”

Yang laughed again, stroking the hair away from Blake’s face where the sweat had made it stick. She pressed a gentle kiss to Blake’s mouth, and Blake returned it as best as she could; it was hard, when she was so deep into her haze that everything felt off-kilter. As the world swam around them, she smiled into their kiss.

Quiet fell around them, their heartbeats beginning to settle like waves after a storm. Yang caressed her back, planting the occasional soft kiss against Blake’s lips or on the top of her head. It was utterly peaceful, and Blake settled into it like it was a dream.

“See?” Blake’s voice felt rough and tired as she spoke. She looked into Yang’s eyes, giving her a pleased smirk. “I told you I wasn’t breakable.”

“I never thought you were,” Yang replied, returning the smile. She kissed Blake again, their noses brushing against each other.

“You… didn’t?” Blake furrowed her brows, regarding Yang suspiciously. But Yang was nothing if not honest, and she returned Blake’s stare evenly.

“No.” Yang reached up, twirling a strand of Blake’s dark hair between her fingers. “I’ve always known you’re strong. You had to be, to deal with everything you’ve been through. Knowing what you’ve been through… you’re probably the strongest person I know.”

Blake swallowed a lump in her throat. She hadn’t thought she’d become so emotional after all the orgasms she’d had that evening, but Yang’s words made her want to cry.

“That’s…” Blake cleared her throat, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. “I mean, everyone else… tries to be so careful with me nowadays. And I appreciate it-- I really do-- but… it’s like they don’t want to let me live a little. They don’t get that, like… I’m allowed to like things a little rough, sometimes. That I don’t want to be treated like I’m glass, or something.” She paused. “I’m not _weak_.”

“I know you’re not,” Yang said softly. Blake sighed, moving to rest her head over Yang’s chest.

“Then why weren’t we fucking like this before?”

Yang laughed, the rise and fall over her chest making Blake’s head bounce a little. “I wanted to make sure it was your choice. I… didn’t want you to feel like I was coercing you at all, into things you weren’t comfortable with.”

“Oh.” Blake felt heat rise to her cheeks again. Consideration like this was such a new concept that it caught her off-guard. It had never been about Yang considering her _weak_ ; Yang had just been letting her make the calls. All along, _Blake_ had been the one in control.

She huddled closer to Yang’s body, feeling a surge of warmth when Yang squeezed her tighter. She was so indescribably safe in Yang’s arms. This, too-- and the love that held them together-- was still so new.

And so wonderful.

“Well,” Blake went on, trying to push through the hitch in her voice. “You should probably get used to it. I… really liked this.”

“Good.” Yang kissed the top of her head, then nuzzled her face against Blake’s hair. “Because I liked it, too.”

“Mmm.” Blake curled her legs closer, wincing at their achiness. She wouldn’t be walking anytime soon. She smiled a little, her heart full and content as she looked back up at Yang. “I love you, Yang.”

“I love you, too.”

How long they lay like this, Blake couldn’t say. She might have drifted in and out of sleep, because when she opened her eyes, they’d somehow gotten underneath the quilt. It was so warm against Yang’s body, and so comfortable that she didn’t _want_ to move, even if she could.

“We’re probably going to have to shower again,” Yang murmured apologetically, when Blake’s eyes flickered up to hers.

“And eat,” Blake sighed, but she closed her eyes again. “But god, I don’t want to get up. I don’t think I’ll be _able_ to get up.”

“I was going to suggest we go canoeing again tomorrow…” Yang said, and Blake heard the laughter in her voice. “But maybe we should postpone.”

“That’s probably for the best. Right now, I can’t even see myself sitting on the bench!”

“Aw.” Yang slid her hand down, caressing Blake’s ass. “Still sore?”

“A bit.” Blake looked up, smiling again. “But you’ve definitely proven your, uh… _paddling_ skills.”

“What can I say?” Yang replied with a smirk. “I’m very good at… _canoeing_.”

Blake laughed, burying her fingers into Yang’s hair and pulling her face closer for a kiss. Her heart fluttered; maybe instead of blood, it was her love for Yang that pumped through it. It was a love that Blake trusted implicitly, one that she could hold close and never worry about its sharp edges. Even in their most wild moments, she knew Yang would never steer her wrong.

Maybe, on their next canoe trip, she’d let Yang sit in the stern.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 6/9, ya thirsty dingdongs!! I'm carrying on the tradition we had last year, where a bunch of us posted a wall of bumbleby porn. There's no wall this year, but I hope you still enjoy. I didn't proofread it as thoroughly as I usually do, so apologies for any typos and whatnot. Thanks [Aziminil](https://aziminil.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading and my beautiful girlfriend [SaigamiProject](https://saigamiproject.tumblr.com/) for supporting me every step of the way! If you're still in the mood for smut, here's last year's contribution, [Taken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156942).
> 
> Also something, something, insert canoe/vagina joke here.
> 
> Follow me:  
> Tumblr: [@pugoata](https://pugoata.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter:[@pugoata](https://twitter.com/pugoata/)  
> As always, I love comments/kudos/asks/etc. Behave yourselves!


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